A touch that transcends an emotion that kindles a romance with myself.
So quiet and calm, not hurrying to rush, to conclude or define a purpose. in that moment even the time decides to stop and mull over why are we not realising that biggest asset to human kind is “human”. The gift of life needs celebration in every moment, every interactions and in every adversity.
Burying her face on my shoulder she smells my skin, reminding herself that sole source of her existence comes from this familiarity. Warm hands are over my face, circling around. With the tip of her finger she is making part of me alive that was latent before. Around us even time has stopped to witness the miracle. A void space around us also gets own fulfilment by just witnessing the sight.
A touch, to her mean ‘home’! to me it means extension of my existence.
